


Don't Let Nobody Tell You Your Life Is Over [Be Every Colour That You Are]

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice And Fire- George R.R Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Dream Sharing, Explicit Sexual Content, Greendreams, Minor Character Death, Multi, POV Story, R plus L equals J, The Others - Freeform, Torture, Violence, War of Five Kings, king in the north
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thus far Brandon Stark and his campanions had recieved a wonderful greating, having a good meal and hot baths that night of their arrival. They had been travelling by foot- or by Hodor, in Bran's case- and it had taken them near on a moon's turn to reach White Harbor while stopping every night to rest. Even that had not been enough, and Bran had slept a full day and night after reaching their destination. </p>
<p>OR: ASOIAF AU where Bran Stark decides not to travel North to train with the Three Eyed Raven and instead remains in Westeros for the duration of the War of Five Kings and everything which comes after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was going to write a fic where Bran is in Winterfell as King, but then I decided there was too much to explain before I could write that so I'm writing an entire fic that explains how everything comes to be. So consider this a prequel to something that hasn't been written yet! <3

The hall was long and bright, with food on nearly every surface. Brandon Stark looked around anxiously from the basket on Hodor's back. He could feel the eyes on him from every spot in the room, and his own insecurities made him believe they were staring at his crippled form, rather than their lost prince brought back from the dead. Bran wanted to believe he'd done the right thing, turning away from the calling of three eyed crow. Jojen didn't believe it, Bran knew he wanted him to go North and find it. Jojen had a destiny he thought Bran and himself needed to go on but Bran couldn't leave his kingdom. His father had been murdered, his home ruined and burned but his brother was a king. He was Robb's heir, a Stark of Winterfell, he must do his duty. 

Lord Manderly- or Lord Too Fat to Sit a Horse, as most of the Northmen referred to him- was sitting on his high seat in front of hall. He certainly was a large man, Bran remembered this from when Robb had called the banners to go save Father from the South, but his ass was too large to fit on this seat- despite it seemingly larger than any Bran had ever seen in nine years of life. Lord Manderly had been nicer to Bran than most of his brother's bannerman, not seeming as judgemental about Bran's broken legs. Perhaps he knew what it was like to be limited, Bran was not sure. But when Meera had given Bran the options of Northern Houses to go to for aid, House Manderly had felt like the best choice. With Rickon and Osha heading to the Umbers, Crey Crewyn dead and House Bolton having come into Winterfell and burning it- Bran hadn't been sure who to trust. There were the Karstarks- whom were supposed to be distinct kin to the Starks- had been option but when he remembered the younger Karstark saying that Bran was too craven to take his own life, Bran had known he would never be uncomfortable underneath that roof. So White Harbor it was. 

Thus far Bran and his companions had received a wonderful greeting, having a good meal and hot baths that night of their arrival. They had been travelling by foot- or by Hodor, in Bran's case- and it had taken them near on a moon's turn to reach White Harbor while stopping every night to rest. Even that had not been enough, and Bran had slept a full day and night after reaching their destination. 

As he was taken down the hall to sit with Lord Manderly during the feast, Bran wasn't sure the last time he'd felt physically this well. Though his nerves were another story. While he had no true reason to mistrust the Manderlys, Bran wasn't foolish enough to believe that House Bolton would revolt against his family without some sort of cause. While the Boltons were a well known brutal House- the flayed man on their banners was enough evidence for that- Bran didn't believe them foolish people. They wouldn't put all their lives at risk without some sort of confirmation. Perhaps the entirely of the North had turned on Robb, and were waiting for a moment to strike. But Bran knew he couldn't think like that. The mistrust would rot his heart. Though he couldn't help thinking that if Theon Greyjoy would turn on Robb, then anybody could.

"Welcome to the feast, Prince Bran!" Lord Manderly had an overly loud voice that fit well with his overly large self. "It is an honour to have you, and quite the relief to see you alive and well!" While the lord seemed sincere, Bran would not let himself believe it fully. He had vowed that from the moment he left Winterfell until the moment he was reunited with his family that he would trust no one but the Reeds and Hodor. And Summer, but Summer was different. 

Jojen and Meera had followed Bran through the North, and he knew that he would have died in the travel without them- Meera, the only hunter in their group-especially. They had no reason to come with him. They'd come to swear their fealty to Winterfell, these children of Howland Reed. Now Winterfell is broken ruin, and it would make all the sense in the Seven Kingdoms for Jojen and Meera to wish to return home to their Lord Father. To let him know they are alive and well. Bran suspected that part of them did want that, and he would not fault it. He felt the same longing to see his family again- Robb, his mother, his sisters. Even Rickon, his little brother that was separated from him for their own safety- and Bran wouldn't have questioned it if the Reeds had gone from him now that they've gotten him to White Harbor. He'd said as much to Meera the night they arrived as they were drifting off to sleep. The Manderlys had given Bran a room befists to his high birth- the brother of their king- but he'd felt cold and alone, so he'd had his servants bring Jojen and Meera in to be with him. He'd gotten used to their close presence over their journey. Bran knew more was expected of him, he was nearly a man grown and should not need friends to share his bed for comfort, but he didn't want to loose the Reeds. 

When Bran had asked Meera if she was going back to Greywater Watch now, she'd ruffled up his hair and smiled at him. "We swore to serve you, my prince. We go where you go." Bran couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relieved. It felt good to know Meera and Jojen weren't going to leave him alone with all these strangers. He was glad that Rickon had Osha with him, the closest thing he could have to a mother while so far away from their own. He wondered if Meera was supposed to the mother figure in his life now and the thought made him feeling oddly uncomfortable, so he simply pushed it from his mind.

"I thank you for your hospitality Lord Manderly, and that of your Household." Bran replied as loudly as he could manage so that his voice carried throughout the large hall. He caught Jojen's eye in the crowd and the crannog boy gave Bran one of his rare smiles, causing a tightening in Bran's chest. Sometimes he worried about the moss eyed boy who was always so serious. Little Grandfather, Old Nan had once called him but Old Nan was likely dead with the rest of the Winterfell Household. "I realize we have asked plenty of you with such an unexpected arrival. I thank you for all the sincere courtesies you have shown us."

Lord Manderly waved his hand a wide open gesture. "What's ours is yours, Prince Bran. We have been awaiting your woken hours before sending news to our King and your Lady mother of your arrival. I'm sure they'll be quite relieved and ecstatic to hear that you and your brother live." 

Bran's eyes scanned the crowd, this time landing on Meera. She shook her head just slightly, a confirmation of what Bran already knew. "I am glad you waited, my lord." Bran replied, hoping to bring out the lord voice that he'd seen in his father and in Robb. "Because I do not believe it would be wise to send news to His Grace. We cannot assure that these ravens will not be intercepted, and so long as myself and Prince Rickon remained believed dead none of our enemies will attempt to kill us in truth."

Lord Manderly managed to contain his surprise to just the widening of his eyes but Bran heard the whispers going through the hall. "Enemies? Surely, young prince, the Ironborn are nearly gone from the North and no Lannister men can cross into our land without meeting resistance. It is not my place to question the beliefs of a prince, but it is my own belief that the best course of action is to inform His Grace that his heir lives and get you safely back to your mother as soon as possible. Begging your leave." 

Bran cleared his throat and tried to fight off a blush. Princes don't blush. "I am only Robb's heir until a child is born to him, and as my brother is betrothed to a Frey women, I do not believe it will be long until that happens. As for our enemies, there are many and more things we must discuss on this matter in a more private meeting. Until that time comes, I do not want word of my or Rickon's survival to be sent to His Grace nor any one else, if you will my lord." 

Lord Manderly gave joyus confirmation and announced the feast begun. Bran sought out the Reeds, finding them quickly. Both gave him the affirming nods and Bran knew he had done this well. 

  
  



	2. Arya I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, Arya is hard to write. :(

The Hound brought Arya to the Twins the day before the wedding. The northmen had set up camp all around the lands, there being too many of them to fight comfortably within the castle walls. Her brother, being a King, and her mother along with the highest lords in the party were all within, meeting with Walder Frey. Arya did not know much about Walder Frey aside from what Maester Luwin had taught her back at Winterfell. House Frey had held the crossing for 300 years and were sworn to her mother's family, House Tully of Riverrun. From what Arya could gather from The Hound's grumbling, Walder Frey was craven old man who married every few years and had too many children to count. The word through the riverlands was that Lord Frey had given Robb permission to cross his lands, and had joined to his cause, when Robb promised to wed to one of Lord Walder's daughters and promised Arya herself to one of his sons. Since that promise, however, Robb had married Margaery Tyrell to secure an alliance with Highgarden. It may have seemed a smart decision at the time to her brother but then Bran and Rickon were killed at Winterfell. Now Robb had to march back North and the best way to do that was through The Crossing.

  
Arya still struggled to believe half the things she'd heard, but the death of her brothers was the strongest. The last she had seen of Bran and Rickon had been the day she'd left for Kings Landing- the same as Robb and her mother. Rickon had been confused and crying, not more than a babe while Bran had been laying broken in bed, not having opened his eyes since he fell. Arya had feared that he would die while she was away, that she would never seen Bran's eyes again, but he'd woken up while she was still in King's Landing and that fear had diminised. Until she'd heard Roose Bolton tell his men in Harrenhal that both Bran and Rickon murdered. It felt untrue to Arya even now, so close to seeing her mother and Robb again. When Arya slept, it seemed almost as though he could feel Bran sometimes. Like he was there with her inside her mind.   
"You're afraid." The Hound spoke suddenly, shaking Arya from her thoughts of her dead brothers.

  
"I'm not." Arya denied instantly. The heat around them from the many bodies was almost overwhelming, and Arya felt the sweat sticking to her short hair to her forehead.   
"You are." The Hound replied in his gruff voice. "You're afraid because you're here and you don't think they're going to want you."

  
Arya bristled and tugged on the ends of her poorly copped hair. She still wished The Hound had taken her to The Wall instead of The Twins. Jon would've taken her no matter what she looked like, no matter what she'd done to get to him. Arya was rather nervous of what her mother would say when she saw Arya's dirty, ragged servant's clothes and her matted hair. She was even more nervous about what her mother would say when she found about the things Arya had done, killing the boy in King's Landing, everything she'd done to escaped Harrenhal. Perhaps Robb would understand that everything Arya had done was to be able to survive but perhaps not... Arya doubted that King Robb was the same person her brother Robb had been. Her brother Robb would never have let Bran and Rickon be murdered but it had been nearly two moons since the news their deaths reached Arya and this King Robb seemed to have done nothing to avenege his heirs. Arya would've done something by now if she'd be able to. Jon would've done something if he wasn't in the Night's Watch, Arya knew it.

  
"I'm not afraid." She repeated stubbornly. This man may have been the closest thing she had to protector at this moment but he still made her list and she could not wait to be away from him. Arya did not think she needed a protector. If it hadn't been for the Brotherhood Without Banners, Arya would have reached Riverrun ages earlier. Maybe she would've still had Gendry and Hot Pie with her, too, and they could have found safe work with her family instead. Arya tried to not think of them but sometimes she missed them dearly. She hoped they were okay wherever they were.

  
Thinking of her friends just reminded Arya of Mycah and little bit of hatred rose in her chest towards the Hound. She knew she could never care for this man who'd rode down her friend just because Prince Joffrey had told him to. Mycah been innocent and The Hound had murdered him. "How are we going to get in? I don't look like a princess." Arya asked, biting her lip and pushing the thoughts of Mycah and Joffrey from her mind.

"That you don't." The Hound laughed roughtly. "But they say a mother will recongize her whelp anywhere."

  
Arya didn't think her mother would recongize her, this messy girl dressed in boy's clothes with a boys cut. If she did, maybe she'd chose to ignore it. Arya's chest felt tight and she felt as though oxygen might be being cut off from her lungs. The Hound was right on one front- she was afraid. An almost crippling fear had settled inside her and she had no idea how to will it away.

  
"Who goes there?" A man called. He was standing in front of the entrance, holding a spear and a shield with the Twin Towns of House Frey on it. Arya shuffled her feet and bit her lip. This was really it.

  
"The Hound- Sandor Clegane." The Hound called back, hand coming down to rest on his sword. Arya eyed it carefully, wishing she still had the sword Jon Snow had given her back at Winterfell. Maybe if she had Needle, she wouldn't feel as afraid. She wouldn't be a small little girl held for ransom, she'd be a trained water dancer. "And his hostage, Arya Stark of Winterfell. We wish to see this King in the North."

  
The man looked over to Arya in all her shabbiness and narrowed his eyes. "Aye, how are we supposed to know if that is truly Arya Stark? Word is the girl died the day the Lannisters took her daddy's head. Why would she be with you?"

  
Arya bit down on her lip, remembering the day Joffrey had called for her father's head- the sound of Sansa's screaming still haunted her dreams sometimes. What had Joffrey and the Queen told people about her- that they'd killed her to avoid having to admit they'd lost a highborn hostage? Did her mother believe she was dead- did Sansa, even knowing that her head wasn't lost with Father's? It hurt to think about it.

  
"I stole her from some petty theives hoping to ransom her off to I could get my own gold out of it." The Hound replied, not taking his hand from his sword. "I know Arya Stark- was with her in Winterfell and King's Landing. Here's the little she-wolf but her bloody mother will tell you the same thing." The guardsmen did not seem convinced, looking between each other. "Would you like to see your King's wrath if he should find out you turned away his sister?"

  
A sly smile crossed the lips of one of the men and put Arya on edge. "Well House Frey does love their king. Let them pass."

  
Arya and The Hound had to stay in the front hall while Robb and Lady Catelyn were summonded to meet them. Catelyn ran into the room even ahead of Robb and stopped in her tracks when she saw Arya. Arya swore her heart stopped beating in that moment. Catelyn looked at her for a long moment, up to down, with her lower lip shaking.   
"Arya?" She asked, her voice small and quiet. Tears welled in Arya's eyes at the sound and it was all she could bring herself to do to nod. She was quickly smothered by her mother's arms and she couldn't keep her tears back. 


End file.
